Cars, Boats and Helicopters
by DSLeo
Summary: A mysterious force intervenes in "Partings". AU. Yes, I had to add to the list of fics that try to fix that episode.


Cars, Boats and Helicopters

Summary: A mysterious force intervenes in "Partings". AU. Yes, I had to add to the list of fics that try to fix that episode.

Rating: T

Genre: Humor/Romance

AN: I recently found an old note jotted during last winter's Netflix binge of the show. It read: "Need divine intervention to save Ls."

This fic resulted.

No theology intended.

UPDATED: I just read on another fic that there's a fic about divine intervention. This was unknown to me, I didn't read it, don't shoot!

GG GG GG

Every now and then, something odd occurs in the universe. Which could be a multiverse. It might be traveled by people who know the answer is forty-two, or by an ever-changing guy in a police call box, or motes of insentient radioactive dust smothered in chocolate. The universe, being infinite, or at least somewhat less infinite than human stupidity, contains many wonders beyond the grasp of humanity's intellect.

Every now and then, there are miracles.

And so, as Lorelai stared numbly at her shattering heart and hopes, what came out of the psychologist's mouth in the car was not, "Maybe you don't have it."

It was, "Maybe we need to look at this differently."

Sniffling, Lorelai agreed a different look might keep her from the precipice within herself. She had a habit of flinging herself off the inner precipice when pushed to an emotional extreme. Emily could knock her off it with a breath. It took Rory stealing a yacht for Rory to even get her near the edge. And now, the situation with Luke...

"Are you particularly religious?"

A trace of her old self surfaced. Lorelai cocked her head and asked, "Like, go to church and pretend religious, or believe it from my bones like Mrs. Kim religious, or build my altar of jewelry and hundred-dollar bills religious?" At that last she nodded to the Gilmore mansion.

"Ah. Okay, then," said the psychologist, who was rather baffled herself by this turn of events in her head. "There's a story I'm going to tell you. Once upon a time..."

"Oh, these never end well," mourned Lorelai, but perked up. She understood _stories_. It was real life that kept tripping her up.

"There was a man."

"Did an anvil fall on him?" asked Lorelai hopefully.

The psychologist drew a breath, and went on with atypical patience, "This man believed that all his problems could be solved through faith."

Having more than once scrubbed grout with a small brush for a paycheck, Lorelai inquired, "What about hard work?"

The psychologist's urge to throw her out of the car was stopped by some force the psychologist could not name. "One day, a terrible storm was predicted. It would cause a flood worse than any other the area had seen."

Nodding, Lorelai leaned forward. She saw where this was headed. Faith. She got it.

"Well, the National Guard came by in a truck, and told the man it was time to evacuate. The man said, no thanks, I believe in miracles, and a miracle will save me. The National Guard drove away and the rain began to fall. Soon, the water was up to the first floor of his house, and a rowboat hailed him. Come in the boat, they said, we'll get you out of here. But the man said, I have faith, and a miracle will save me."

Lorelai gasped. "Seriously? Hello? Flood, boat!"

"Well, the flood soon reached the second floor, and as he stood in the window, a larger boat came by, with a strong motor, and the people aboard it shouted to the man, hurry, jump in, the water is rising, we'll take you to safety. But the man said..."

"Nope, faith, miracles, got it," said Lorelai, eagerly hoping for the happy ending.

"Exactly. And the water continued to rise. So the man retreated to the roof of his house. And a helicopter came and dropped a ladder, and the crew of the helicopter shouted at the man to hurry and climb the ladder and get aboard."

"Ooh, ooh, and he went!" cried Lorelai excitedly. "And... The moral is to take help when it's offered, right? Right! Yes!" She delivered a very small fist-pump. "Lorelai takes the honors in literature again!"

"Wrong," said the psychologist. "The man refused the helicopter. And he drowned."

Huddling small, Lorelai whispered, "Oh. Didn't see that coming."

"So as the man stood at the Pearly Gates..."

A long-nagging question popped to Lorelai's mind, and therefore her mouth. "Why are they pearl? Why not gold? Why not cloud? Why pearl?"

"Ask a priest," said the psychologist dryly. "So, as I was _saying_. Man. Gates. Afterlife. And he looked at the Almighty and said, 'I don't understand. I prayed and prayed and had faith, why didn't you send a miracle to save me?' And the Almighty replied, 'I sent you the National Guard, two boats and a helicopter. What more did you want?'"

Frowning, Lorelai asked, "Um. Okay, so I'm flunking literature 101 here. What's that supposed to mean?"

"If someone keeps refusing help," said the psychologist, "then it's really not anyone's fault but their own, is it?"

"You mean I should... But no one's offering help. I keep trying to give it to Luke and he won't take...Oh," said Lorelai with sudden, stomach-cramping comprehension. "Do I have to... Let him drown? I'm really not understanding, I'm sorry, maybe it's the exposure to Christopher, he's never good for my IQ."

The psychologist hid a snort of laughter. "Lorelai, you've offered him all the help you can think to offer, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, not an actual boat or helicopter, but... Yeah," sighed Lorelai forlornly, picking at a fingernail whose polish had chipped.

"Then be prepared for him to tell you that you owed him a miracle."

"But why won't he let me help! Why won't he..."

"Why didn't the man in the story?"

Enlightenment came hard and with a dose of spiritual nausea. "He never saw the miracles right in front of him?"

"Bingo," replied the psychologist with surprising whimsy. "What you're offering as help, he sees as getting in the way of _his_ version of how things will go."

Face crumpling, Lorelai swallowed a lump of tears. "Can I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Did he ever want me or is... No, never mind. I know. I love him. I really do. I always have, but first Rory said I couldn't, then Rachel came back and then there was all that with Max and he wanted me, at least he acted like he did, and then Nicole and Luke got married and then there's the whole self-help book thing but if he really had the horoscope because he loved me all that time, why didn't he do anything, and how was I supposed to know, and nobody wants me, not even Rory's father, not even my _mother_ , and..."

The psychologist handed over tissues. Lorelai sobbed brokenly.

"I can't give up on him, I can't," whimpered Lorelai. "It's not just wanting kids and matching jogging suits, he... I thought he... I think he... I'm going to end up the bad guy, right? I'm always the bad one."

The psychologist slid her a business card. Lorelai tucked it into her purse. She exited the car.

Inside the car, the psychologist shook her head violently and exclaimed, "Did I just use the story with the car, the boats and the helicopter? What do the Gilmores put in those drinks?"

GG GG GG

"I don't have time for this!"

"C'mon, bro," crooned Liz, "you gotta make time."

Luke Danes huffed, "When, Liz? Lorelai's flaked out, Anna's angry, April's... April, and I'm swamped and that damn troubadour is gonna make me lose what's left of my mind!"

What had moved her to this point, Liz didn't ask. She simply moved. It was her way. "Okay, yeah, it's busy, so? They're all eating, and Caesar's got the grill, sit."

Growling, Luke leaned. His eyes darted around the diner. They glared at Taylor and, out in the square, the troubadour.

"So, y'know, there was this dude, he lived somewhere awesome, and he had all this faith, total faith, in miracles, because hey, he did everything right, dig?"

"Liz, _English_."

She swatted his hand. "Pay. Attention!"

Something in her voice reverberated. It hit the part of Luke's brain once commanded by his mother. The part that had cleaned up his room, washed dishes, and not tracked mud into the house _twice_.

Luke folded his arms, coffee pot in one hand notwithstanding. "Okay, paying attention, make it quick."

"Can do," chirped Liz. "So, here's this guy, totally sure he's doing everything right, got it? Good, got it. So one day a neighbor comes over and says, hey, dude, huge flood coming, we gotta evacuate. I got a big truck, you come with me, it's cool. But the dude said, no way, he knows he'll get a miracle. He's got all that faith and he's doing everything right, so he figures karma's on his side. Kismet. Whatever," shrugged Liz gaily. "Anyway. The flood hits. And he's stuck in his house, water's up to the living room window, and a rowboat comes by, and they yell at him to hop in, let's get outta here, and he says no way, I got faith that I'll get a miracle, see?"

"Liz," groaned Luke, a headache starting to throb at his temples.

"So the flood gets higher," said Liz, demonstrating with her hand above the table. "And he's stuck on the second floor thinking, wow, this is bad, but I got faith, and a big boat comes, has an engine, y'know, like on TV, one of those."

Luke managed not to facepalm at his sister's powers of description.

"And the dude says, no way, I got faith. So the big boat takes off. Well, now the dude has to stand on his roof and water's right at his feet, and this helicopter stops overhead..."

"And crashed, since it stopped."

"Fine, it _hovers_ overhead," snapped Liz with a roll of her eyes, "geez, how does Lorelai put up with your moods, bro? Anyway, they drop a ladder, and they tell the dude, hurry, climb up, flood's still rising. And he says..."

"Yeah, I get it, go away, faith, miracle, do you mind, I'm trying to..."

"So am I!" Liz said sharply, bright eyes narrowing. "So the dude _drowns_ , okay, and while he's talking to the Big Divine, he says, hey, what happened, I prayed and had faith and I didn't get my miracle. And y'know what the Cosmic Amazing replied?"

"Stop smoking funny cigarettes," deadpanned Luke, to hide his rising anger.

"Nope. Said hey, sent you a car, two boats and a helicopter, what more'd you want."

"Liz, what the hell's your point? Besides wasting my time?"

Liz sighed with a headache of her own brewing, by the squint around her eyes. "Trying to tell you, man. Water's up to your ankles. You might wanna be nice to the helicopter."

Forehead in a knot, Luke said, "I've got work to do."

Liz glanced at the ceiling, and presumably the sky beyond all layers of building above her. "Could use a little miracle here. I mean, huh- _zah_."

GG GG GG

And thus did stars, galaxies and possibly black holes align to create the moment when a blindly infuriated Luke heard Lorelai say, "I have to go."

She walked away.

He had no time for this. That. Her. Drama. Stupid interference. How _dare_ she go behind his back, talk to Anna, think he could marry her when he had a _kid_! How dare she cause yet another scene, full of exaggerations and demands! He was fine. She was the one with the problem! Ultimatums were _poison_ to him. And what was all that crap about boats and helicopters?

He turned toward the diner. "Now or never, well, now isn't happening, you can bet your ass it'll be never, Gilmore," he snarled under his breath. He did not _mean_ it, of course. It was a way to vent the frustration. The need to avenge the worry she'd put him through when she avoided him. She hadn't even called to see when she could come to the diner!

And at that point, because the cosmos had its own way of communicating to the willfully stupid, a car horn honked.

Loudly.

Luke turned to curse the driver.

And Luke Danes's world _stopped_.

GG GG GG

The sounding of a car horn barely penetrated Lorelai's misery. She could barely move. She wanted to be ill. She had a need for comfort, but comfort was Luke and Luke didn't want her near him. Or his child. Or his diner. Or his _life_.

She sniffled hard, trying to hold onto her composure, or what remained of it, and hiccupped miserably as a truck raced past, honking wildly.

As far as she could see, it was just an everyday pickup truck. What made it notable was the fact that it was towing a rowboat, and behind that, a sleek white motorboat about five times larger than the rowboat. All were fishtailing crazily along the street, in some bizarre facsimile of a drunken conga line, but the kicker for Lorelai was the helicopter in close pursuit.

She gawked up at the helicopter. State police, she saw on the side.

A truck. A rowboat. A motorboat. A helicopter.

She rubbed her tear-reddened eyes. "Oh my God, what did my father put in the drinks?"

Then a blur slammed into her, and a moment later, the trailer holding the motorboat skidded into the utility pole not six feet away from her.

Pinned to the sidewalk, Lorelai watched in fascination as a ladder dropped from the helicopter.

"I am _not_ seeing this," said the weight holding her down, and shifted.

Lorelai sat up. "Er," she said, and scooted away from Luke. "Um. Thanks. That was... Heroic and nice and all that. But, um, I wasn't actually that close to the pole or the boat or the... Um... Y'know. Weird thing there that just happened. But. Thank you." She tossed her hair off her face, and stood, looking for her shoes. She had been knocked clean out of them by his unnecessary but gallant tackle. "So. Hey. Stars Hollow, right?" she babbled awkwardly. "Planes, trains, and, I mean, cars, boats, and... Yeah. I have to go."

"Lorelai! _Wait_!"

She froze in place, cringing small and frightened. "Please. Don't," she begged. "Please. I know. I just, I was scared. This was what you'd say. And. And I couldn't. Face... I couldn't... But I have to, and I'm sorry, and never is okay, I mean, never's just fine, it's not like, I mean, none of this..." She gestured between them with a choking sob. "None of this ever made sense, right? I mean, you like types like Rachel and Anna and Nicole, and I'm a mess, and every time I brought up the wedding, you didn't see a chance to tell me about April, you saw a chance to keep lying, and that's really, _really_ bad precedent, and I won't even go into how you can have a horoscope in your wallet for a decade but need a self-help book to make up your mind, and then you're all in but you're not and then Emily says it's okay so you're all in again and then April comes and you're out and... I mean, okay, I get it, not all in, I get it, I screwed up, I didn't... I didn't see... I should've... I didn't..." Her voice cracked and her face twisted with the effort it took her not to cry. "I'm sorry, Luke. You've been trying to tell me for six months that you're... You've been trying to tell me all along, I mean, I'm the commitment catastrophe, right, so if I'm asking for a wedding, it's a bad idea, I trapped you in this, this..." Her breath whooped out on a forlorn, " _Thing_ , and you hate it, and I'm sorry, so sorry..."

Hands clamped on her shoulders and shook once, lightly. "Lorelai! _Shut up_!"

Lorelai shut up, shrinking from Luke's touch, trying to get used to its lack.

"Are you okay?"

Shock slapped through her. She said coolly, "Yes. Thank you for defending me from a runaway boat." Then, because she was human, Lorelai added, "Don't you have to go think of April?"

Luke's face reddened. He looked from her to the dot of the departing helicopter in the sky. "I didn't mean _never_."

"Oh come on!" yelled Lorelai, near-death-by-parable sparking a new fire in her. "It's two options, now, never, you said not now, that implies never, okay? There's a reason you jumped out over stupid Chris, and a reason you didn't ask first, and a reason you didn't move in or look happy about the wedding or want me near April!" She poked his chest twice. "No. More! When you want something, you go for it," she concluded in a bitter snarl. "You didn't go for me, I got the message, memo received, the town told a lot of great stories that don't even make sense if you try to put them together! Self-help book? Horoscope? Come _on_! You probably just kept that hoping I _would_ go away!"

She wheeled and stalked away, not caring that her shoes remained on the sidewalk some four or five yards behind her. She could and did run in heels, but for a truly quick getaway, nothing beat the traction given by bare feet on pavement.

GG GG GG

Luke stumbled a few times as he followed Lorelai to her house.

His head was spinning from the sight of that out-of-control parade of insanity, the terror she'd be crushed by the wild gyrations of the motorboat on its trailer, the fact he had seen a pickup truck and two boats and a helicopter right after Liz told him that stupid story and he had a fight with Lorelai where she'd called herself a helicopter.

The inner chorus of _How dare she go behind my back_ was starting to sound much more like _She was sending a motorboat_.

And tonight, as he'd ignored the pain in her, the pleading in her, he could see _now or never_ was, in fact, a ladder dropped from a helicopter.

She was coming up the sidewalk.

He stopped, frightened by the pallor and blankness of her face. Even Lorelai's famously dancing eyes were marble-dead.

"My jeep," she said dully as she passed him.

"Your shoes," offered Luke.

She said, "Thank you," by rote, and trudged back to her jeep. She slid into her shoes, leaning on the hood, and remained bent over a moment. Then she straightened, trembling visibly, before she wobbled to the driver's side door.

Luke's hand closed on hers. "Wait."

"You didn't leave much at the house, but I'll drop it off at the diner tomorrow, when April won't be there," she said flatly, not meeting his gaze. "And maybe, in a few months, we can talk. And, uh, go back to being friends. I mean, as much as we were friends. I don't know right now. I know you don't like to rehash things. Or hash things. Yeah, never mind, I'll just get used to Sookie's coffee."

She yanked away her hand, rubbing at it as if he'd left marks.

Luke heard his sister say _Might wanna be nice to the helicopter_.

Then he heard himself say, "I don't have a reason. No excuse, no explanation. You're right. It doesn't add up."

Lorelai twisted her head, denying him any chance to see her eyes. "Yeah, I know."

"No, you don't. You don't know. I'm the jerk on the roof yelling about not getting a miracle when he's been telling the miracle to go to hell the whole time. I could've asked you out before Rachel ever came back, I was... Stuck... Thinking... Not thinking," he amended, and rubbed his head. "Geez. I got stuck and you were there, you were the car, and then the rowboat and then the motorboat and you're trying to be a helicopter and I keep telling you I don't need you, and I'm drowning so bad I just drowned my best friend along with me."

She peered suspiciously at him over her shoulder. Her wariness hurt worse than her babble. Only her tears cut deeper. "I'm scared."

Luke exhaled and admitted grimly, "Me too."

"That car and boat stuff made sense to me."

"Thank God," breathed Luke.

Her sniffle broke his heart. "You said I was a cartoon. That she'd like me better. And that thing you got me for Valentine's Day. And... All of that."

Dry-mouthed, Luke stepped back from her. "You're right. The wedding got too real. I'm not good at happy endings. I don't believe them. Not in movies, not in books, not in real life. And you, all you see is happy endings, and I need that, and... I have no idea what I'm saying."

"Neither do I."

"Except... Not never." His voice cracked. "God, Lorelai, not never. I got so damn angry about Anna and I couldn't take it out on Anna, she's got April, so... Aw, geez, I took it out on you, didn't I?"

Sad-eyed, Lorelai nodded at him, still refusing to come near him.

Nearing despair, Luke blurted, "If marrying you tonight would fix this, I'd do it."

To his surprise, Lorelai suddenly began digging in her purse. She gave a small hoot of triumph and wielded a business card.

"What's that?" asked Luke uneasily.

"A car," said Lorelai. "Or a helicopter. It depends. How deep is the water?"

Luke swore his knees went weak. He stepped toward her and took her free hand. "Going down."

Lorelai gave him a tentative smile. "Boat it is."

GG GG GG

AN: Now imagine any and all Christopher-free endings you like, with much fluff amidst the remaining angst. I can only seem to do one-shots. All else I've tried goes into dark places.

The variations on the man-awaits-miracle are many. I do not know the origin of it, but credit to that person(s).

END


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